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Aug 2013 · 1.1k
Welcome Anxiety
Lauren Miller Aug 2013
Don't shake you say.
Relax.
Breathe.
Calm down.
I'm here.


My body trembles in your arms.
My breath shallow, labored.
My eyes wide with fear.
My mind consumed in agony.
Welcome the anxiety.


I'm claimed by a monster
It's claws (sharp enough to **** my hope)
Tear at my heart.
It's eyes (reflections of darkest nightmares)
Show me the worst.
It's words (harsh, terrifying, destructive)
Scare me.
It's presence (the air turns dark, no way out)
Reduce me to a sobbing pile of fear.


let me go
please let me go
i'm trapped in my mind
**let me out
May 2013 · 1.7k
Pen to Paper
Lauren Miller May 2013
Tears trail familiar cheek bones.
Pick up your pen and paper
Chocked cries echo in silence.
Don't drop your pen and paper
Turmoil tears the inside.
Press down your pen to paper

Allow all the words to move you.
As your pen dances on paper
Let loose the ink to fly free and wild.
Just put your pen to paper
Wonderful worlds might crash and burn.
But you can put your pen to paper

Do you feel that healing magic?
As you remove your pen from paper
Can you feel your heart grow light?
As you rest your tired pen from paper
Do you know what it feels like?
*When you put your pen to paper
Lauren Miller May 2013
you've locked yourself up
with your pain

my darling,

if you hide away,

in the dark,

where is our love?
Lauren Miller Apr 2013
The whistle of the train drifts into my morning ears
Delicate fingers of light brush through my hair,
Illuminating my face
Floating, flying through my  being:

An innocent climbs the mountain
to the window far above her bed.
Two blue eyes yearning for a peek.
She looks for the distant train track,
as if she might peer hard enough through the trees
that she'd catch a glimpse of her beloved transport.
Maybe, just maybe, it would stop, take her away.
She closes her eyes, and imagines being a black bird.
Twisting, tumbling, turning
in the air above the ancient steam powered train.
Fly free, Fly fast.
If she races, she might just get away.

I open my baby-blues, and she disappears
as though she were sand,
drifting away on the  wind.
She drifts away from me.
Lauren Miller Apr 2013
Days roll by in a melancholy chaos.
Bumping along,
banging into each other as if they've spent
all night face first in a bottle.
They soon become unrecognizable
as individuals.
Is that yesterday?
Today?
Tomorrow?

Blurred beyond my vision,
rest blue skies.
Welcoming as a grandmother with a look of affection,
soft brown eyes.
Can I break the cycle?
The disconsolate linger?
The emptiness?

Steady earth
unsteady under my feet.
It's as though I've dizzied my exhausted body
just through standing.
Where do I walk?
Rest?
Fall?
Feb 2013 · 1.3k
Things Forgotten
Lauren Miller Feb 2013
A warm coat on a snowy day
Words meant to be said
Stories told over and over
To-Do lists left in her head
Promises made
Bowtie for a worker’s uniform
A pair of red gloves
Umbrellas in a storm
A charger for a phone
Many different passwords used
A library book now overdue
And lessons learned too
Places which have been explored
Goals which have been made
Random keepsakes they hoard
The way that things have changed
Textbooks for a class
What makes someone strange
Combinations to a lock
Setting the alarm clock
Jan 2013 · 625
Secrets Behind Broken Glass
Lauren Miller Jan 2013
She stares through cracked glass

                                                   Wetness reddens her cheek, and her deep blue oceans are puffy

She watches me

                                                    I pluck at  my skin, at my fingers

She pleads me to stop

                                                   The compulsion urges me to continue

She knows my heart

                                                   Wishing it would heal not hurt

She reaches out

                                                    I cannot take her hand while I'm picking at my skin

She is trapped behind broken glass

                                                    There­ is nothing she can do

She allows tears to roll down her cheeks*

                                                     As I tear at myself
Jan 2013 · 634
Incense (10w)
Lauren Miller Jan 2013
Smoke and Scent ensnare my body,
Awakening my deepest thoughts.
Jan 2013 · 442
Thoughts
Lauren Miller Jan 2013
Though I do love you,
I often think:
Possibly in being with you,
  my own identity might
                                     S
                                               I
                    
                                                     N
                        
                                      ­                  K
                        
                                                          ?


Th­ese ideas sadden my heart
Truly, the tone of them stinks
Really, I want to be with you, love
But does your head ever also
T          H          I          N          K?


As you gaze at me so lovingly,
Do you ever see my eyes
+             B                
              L              
I
N
K
­                       ?
                     +
I don't know what is happening to me,
But I feel a break in our link.


Please, help me fix this.
The cheerless wine of departure, I do not want to drink.
Assist me in being rid of my doubts, my dear,
Until our hearts are once more in

     **S                               N                                  
              Y              ­                      C
Dec 2012 · 460
Journey's End
Lauren Miller Dec 2012
In a a moment, they breathe their last
Their soul can in smoke escape
There is no more pain from their past
Given a coin, their being now reshape

The innocence is gone
Twenty precious ones have fallen
The angels cease their song
Their guide to Styx is calling

Over the river they must travel
To meet the Lady and Lord
The dead waters have no current to babble
now that the Fates have cut short almost thirty cords
My heart goes out to the families that lost their beloved children in the elementary school shooting in Connecticut today. It was not their time, and I wish there was an explanation for such senseless destruction of pure life. They are all in my prayers.
Dec 2012 · 3.3k
Simple Gestures of Kindness
Lauren Miller Dec 2012
I need a hug,
but not a quick,
lazy hug
during which the touch feels like less of a comforting gesture,
but more of an awkward happening
with limp arms hanging like gigantic weights,
pulling you into the floor.
Not one where you aren't ever really sure if you should hang on
for just a moment more,
or if you should let go,
and release into an uncomfortable silence
that lasts until someone coughs hesitantly.
The sound reverberating through the atomosphere,
leaving a heavy draft of atypical embarrassment at the contact,
waiting for someone else to bring up some random topic of discussion
to break the icy and heavy silence.



No.



I need a real hug.
The kind where someone who loves you see your pain
even though you might not say anything.
Reading the waters behind your smiling eyes,
seeing the hidden hurt behind your irises,
they grab you,
perhaps by your slightly shacking shoulders,
and pull you into their warm encasement.
Holding you tightly
and safely
in their care.
And the two of you just hang onto this affectionate moment
of profound concern among brethren of a species
The kind where time seems to stop
in admiration of this subtle outpouring of unified allegiance
before which the universe bows.
I need the kind of hug that demonstrates a fierce loyalty.
Devotion that knows
should the object of such intense friendship fall into the pit,
from whence none return unscathed in some way,
they will throw down a rope
a foothold
a salvation,
and they will pull that person from the depths of the darkness
maybe even at the risk of falling in themselves.



Yes.



That is the kind of esoteric gesture
that can be so impactful on those in pain,
regardless of whether that pain be great or small.
And should you find that you receive love like that,
treasure it.
And should you find that you give love like that,
never forget how special and rare someone like you is.
Lauren Miller Nov 2012
Greet everyday,
eyes full of tears for her loss
He wonders of what

Known in the morning-
but gone by the night
Through his hands like sand

Meeting new people
though they are the same
Doctors can't help him

Where have the times gone
Identities learned anew
A mind lost to age
Nov 2012 · 683
Whispers of the Forest
Lauren Miller Nov 2012
Up the Stairs,
              Turn and then another flight.
                               But she doesn't care.
                          Her tiny feet stomp across the ground

                                                   pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat

              Her smile grows wide as the great...
                                                        ­                        vast...
                                 ­                                                           sea.
 ­                                                                 ­                                             She finally arrives at the door.
                                 She is so small, her tiny heart is bursting with excitement.
                                                     ­             
                               thump-boom-boom-thump-boom-boom

             With a gleeful squeal she pushes open the door, as mother follows exhausted....
                                            chasing­ her little one

  When she enters, the smell of knowledge greets her nose in welcome
                                                         ­                            she inhales deeply                      
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                her young mind
                                                            ­                                                                 ­                              yearning...
                                                 The forest of books
                                        the voices whisper to her from all around

A kindly face peeks at her from behind a desk,
                                                                ­            behind glasses which rest on a nose
                                                            ­                                                    a nose nestled in sacred text

                              the small hand points to the volumes:
                                                       desiring....hoping.....praying
             From behind the desk,
                                               a smile, understanding
                                                 ­                                                                 ­               a nod

Joyous! Glorious!...a leap of exhilaration
                                                    ­                                         small feet make their sprint once again

                                                          ­           *pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat
Oct 2012 · 1.4k
Grounded
Lauren Miller Oct 2012
Into the car drearily I go
There's no avoiding it, this I know
Headphones are in; world is out
As the music comes on, I try not to pout
I stare out the window full of despair
Every Sunday morning, it's the same affair

As I watch the rolling hills, trees, and skies
The image of a lone raven reaches my eyes
He's sitting atop a branch, seemingly divine
His piercing dark eyes are looking to mine
I smile widely, knowing why he appears
He leaps from the tree, his flight easing my fears
He soars through the air, the master of the wind
In our hearts I know we are kin
As he disappears, I see the grass flutter
In the flowing air, the trees too shudder
I know the winds and know their names
I hear their voices making their claims
When I see the sun, in his bright glory
I met a smiling face who recites me a story
A story on the wind, of fires and dancing
A story of forests and May Day romancing
A story of ancestors and honor and pride
A story of candles and spirits that guide
The story is my comfort as we continue to drive
I find myself feeling suddenly alive

But soon my time in the car has come to an end
I say goodbye to my natural friends
Away from my weekly prison, I wish I could fly
Fly past the cross and over the sky
But I’m no raven that soars through the clouds
I am a child stuck on the ground.
Lauren Miller Oct 2012
The                      Gods                             are                   jubilantly            treading                  today

Gods                     and                         Nymphs                dance,                 freely               everywhere

are                     Nymphs                    whispers                  silent                     on                  wind

jubilantly            dance,                        silent                       leaves                deepest              wishes

treading              freely                            on                        deepest               desire                  for        

today               everywhere                     wind                     wishes                   for                    peace
This is my first attempt at a square stanza. It's a bit rough, but over all I'm pleased with the outcome. Constructive criticism would be appreciated!
Oct 2012 · 2.3k
Unimportant
Lauren Miller Oct 2012
I'm running about with my mind scattered around,
There you sit quietly alone on the ground.
I hardly see you, I'm in such a hurry.
As I whirl past your image is blurry.

When I stop for a moment to eat my meal,
You soft, quiet voice makes an appeal.
I don't even hear you, I'm not paying attention.
Your story begins with misapprehension.

When you notice how little my ears are hearing,
You become quiet depressed, your voice disappearing.
My response to this; agitated, and sharp.
Naturally, not failing to go straight through your heart.
"Darling, please, I'm quite busy today.
Yes, of course I'm listening, but remind me: What did you say?"

But to you the message is already made clear:
You are negligible, and my apology completely insincere.
There, your self-worth is crushed under my shoe.
You sit back quietly, shrouded in blue.

I brush off your discouragement, I have no time to spare.
As I rush out the door, you are left, though it may be unfair.
Sometimes things are just as they appear.
I am too preoccupied, and the top of my priorities you are no where near.
Oct 2012 · 786
Bedtime Story
Lauren Miller Oct 2012
The shadows play across the wall
Out to you their voices call
"Little one, why don't you run?
You know your days will soon be done."
In your blankets, your head does hide
To your teddy bear, your fears confide
The monsters, imps, and demons stay
Until the breaking light of day
You'll never sleep, they taunt you so
Their tortures you will under go
But do not fear, my little child
You will not be beguiled
The terrors in the darkened room
Your reality do not assume
You'll be fine, just close your eyes
In the morning, the sun will rise
Life will become once more plain
Until the night does come again
Sep 2012 · 758
The Flight
Lauren Miller Sep 2012
I'm drifting out to sea you know,
Out to sea to be alone.
I'm gliding through the trees that grow,
The trees that only in summers show.

I'll make myself a boat and oars,
To row across the northern shores.
I'll make myself some wings that soar,
I'll fly around forevermore.

I'm fighting a storm that will not stop,
The storm that causes my boat to rock.
I'm clashing against the winds that mock,
The winds that want my soul to drop.

I'll be capsized in the sea that's dark,
The sea that on me leaves it's mark.
I'm crashing to the forest floor,
Where I'll lay forevermore.
I am proud to say that this poem will be published in 'Inside of Me' by the Live Poet's Society in New Jersey! Thank you to everyone who has supported me in my poetry. Your kind words always touch my heart.
Sep 2012 · 888
Maybe
Lauren Miller Sep 2012
Maybe I want to hold you
in my arms.
Maybe you want to stay with me
until the dawn.
Maybe I want to kiss you
gentle and sweet
Maybe you want to  sing with me
proud and strong

Maybe you want to bake with me
make cookies and crumbs
Maybe I want to laugh with you
like we're headed for an asylum
Maybe you want to hold hands with me
We'll twiddle our thumbs
Maybe I want to play in the snow with you
Until my body is numb

Maybe we can spend some time
Just being to together
Maybe we can stay right here
Forever and ever
Sep 2012 · 2.4k
Serendipity
Lauren Miller Sep 2012
A blue sky above us is watching.
We're stopping
We stare at the night
Snow falls like a memory of some distant place
Some distant time when you were wholly, completely mine
Sunsets remember our laughter and grins
Underneath their colors, alongside our sins
Chase me down the path
a photograph
Curious beginning days

— The End —